Deacon

Chapter Two

Chapter TwoPURITY ATWOOD STARED at the back door of Cheaters, her hands shaking. She didn’t want to go inside, didn’t want to get up on that stage one more time for a bunch of singles she’d have to give over to Damien Croft. Again. Like she did for the last few months, and of which she was sick of doing. She took a deep breath, her chest a twisted mess of anxiety. She couldn’t keep doing this but had yet to figure out how to escape.

“Staring at the door won’t get you inside,” she heard the woman say.

Turning, Purity watched as Sasha Winters crossed the parking lot to where Purity stood, her five-inch heels clacking on the asphalt as the wind tugged at her skirt which barely covered her pale ass as it was. “I hoped if I stood here long enough, the whole place would just disappear.”

Sasha laughed off the idea with a wave of her hand, her bright red nails almost an inch past her fingers, as she raked the strands of fake-blond hair out of her eyes with her other hand. “Oh, sweetie, Damien made a deal with the devil himself to keep the darkness of Cheaters going, didn’t you hear?” She ran a hand over Purity’s shoulder as she passed Purity on her way toward the back door of the strip club.

Purity watched the other woman leave, vanishing into the morass of s****l tension that kept the club’s doors open year after year. Purity sighed as she shifted her purse on her shoulder. Might as well get it over with. She gave a sad shake of her head as she made her way inside Cheaters.

The interior was already a cacophony of loud music, men cheering, and waitresses calling out to the rowdier clients who grabbed their asses as they passed by. The lights were dim, except for the ones shining on the girls sashaying their asses on the stage, their hands gripping the golden pole that ran from the floor to the ceiling, a girl already swinging from it as her round ass waved at the men in their chairs.

Purity shook her head as she slipped into the back where the girls got dressed—if dressed is really what you could call it—weaving her way through the women who either left or entered the dressing room, most with more flesh revealed than covered, regardless of which direction they went. She dropped her bag on the empty tables in front of a long mirror and plopped down into one of the chairs.

“Ten minutes, Purity,” Jayson yelled at her as he ducked his head through the door. “Shake that ass of yours and don’t be late. There’s a wild bunch out there tonight.” He disappeared just as fast as he appeared, not even staying long enough to see her wave of acknowledgment.

Purity blew out an exasperated breath as she turned back to the mirror to put the rest of her makeup on, not that it really mattered; most of the men never really looked up that long to even notice. Once her makeup was on, she stood, yanking her top off her body and over her head, leaving her in a red, silky bra with her ample breasts spilling out the top, straining against the material. She then slid her sports shorts off her lengthy legs, kicking them off and piling them on top of her shirt. She glanced at herself in the mirror, turning so she glimpsed her red lace panties over her round ass. A smile started to decorate her face as she checked herself out, admiring how sexy she looked in the outfit, but then she frowned, wishing for once, she was dressed like she was for someone special, instead of a drunk with a fistful of dollar bills. She turned back around, sighing, her shoulders slumped. She had to get away from Damien Croft.

She turned, heading for the door, and it was as if just by thinking of the man, he appeared. She stopped abruptly, almost running into him. As it was, he reached out, catching her with his firm grip before she could back too far away, his smile more of a leer than an actual smile.

“Two minutes to go,” he said, leaning in to sniff at her perfume, making her shudder at how close he was to her. “Is that the perfume you bought at the mall today?”

Purity felt her body tense. “You really need to stop having me followed. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Funny,” Damien said, one eyebrow c****d as he stared at her, his dark eyes threatening. “Your sister said the same thing, but I don’t see her here.” He shook his head. “Nah. I think my men will keep an eye on you just to make sure you show up here every night until your sister’s debt is paid off.” He leaned in, inhaling her scent. “You smell good. Now, your opening song is all set up and ready to go.” He raked her with his gaze one more time, nodding his appreciation. “Girl, you look damn fine. You are definitely hanging out with me after hours tonight.”

She pulled herself from his grasp, disgust filling her. “No, I’m not,” she snapped. “Now, let me get out there, so I can get my set started. The boss hates it when I’m late.”

Damien winked at her, and it made her shiver. “Good thing for you I know the boss,” he told her, leering as he bounced his eyebrows at her.

Purity sucked in a sickening breath as she started to push past him. “We are not getting together, Damien, so forget it.”

He snatched at her arm, jerking her back around to face him as he sneered at her, his fingers digging into her flesh, hurting her. “You’re acting as if you even have a choice, b***h. Your pretty little ass belongs to me and never forget it. Your sister raked up a hefty debt and then split, leaving you here to pay it off. I’ll collect that debt any f*****g way I want.”

Purity just stood there, shaking, her breathing shallow.

Jayson’s voice came from the DJ booth in the back of the club. “Okay, men, let’s pull those bills out—keep everything else tucked in while you do—for Purity Atwood. She’s going to show you that Purity is merely a name and not a standard.”

The men cheered, but Damien still held onto her for another second before he shoved her toward the doorway and the stage beyond. “Go wiggle that ass of mine,” he snarled.

Her body shook as she forced herself to walk to the stage. There was no way her headspace would allow her to wiggle her ass. Not now. She sighed as she forced a smile onto her lips, nodding at Candy as she stepped past Purity and down onto the floor.

“Careful,” Candy said as she touched Purity’s shoulder. “They’re a little grabby out there, so don’t lean too far to the edge of the stage unless you’re ready for men to grope you.”

Purity nodded. “Thanks,” she said as she climbed the two steps that put her crotch just above the men’s eyes, ensuring they’d all be staring up into her sweet valley. Jayson played The Chemical Brothers’ Got to Keep On as Purity reached for the pole, sliding her backside up and down the golden rod as she reached above her, gripping the pole as she stared out at the crowd of men, some nursing beers, others gawking at her, and some just talking to their friends as if a half-naked lady wasn’t dancing ten feet away from them. Who comes to a strip club to ignore the girls?

Having danced at Cheaters for almost five months, the one thing Purity became skilled at—besides wiggling her ass and t**s to men who probably couldn’t keep it up for longer than two or three half-assed thrusts—was multitasking while she danced. She was good at flirting with one man, coaxing a few ones or a five out of his hand, while checking out another. Usually they were marks for lap dances later, men she knew she could flirt her way between their legs. She tried to pick the easiest way to a quick yes, so she could make her money and get out of there.

She turned, keeping her hands on the pole as she pushed her ass out at the men on the other side of the stage, grinning at the ones in front of her. As she glanced up, she noticed two muscular men walk through the front door, quickly paying the fifteen-dollar cover charge to gawk at naked women, and sliding deeper into the darkness of Cheaters. Damien—or maybe it was Jayson, but Purity doubted it—preferred to keep the lights low, so the men could grope the women without being seen or satisfy their throbbing issues without people freaking out about it. There had been too many times she almost twisted a man’s pecker off because he thought a private dance gained them entrance to her privates. If it was up to Damien, however, he’d allow them to get whatever they could, and Purity knew girls who gave it to them at retail prices.

Purity watched as the two men found a table a few feet away from the stage. Both had dark hair and muscles that stretched their shirts, begging for a woman to just run her hands up and down their chests. One was a little taller than the other, but both had mischievous grins etched onto their faces. She could tell by looking at them that, while they’d be fun, they wouldn’t be easy marks.

The taller one winked at her as he took his seat while his friend waved down Brandie, the server.

She grinned back at the man as she gave him a slight finger wave. Perhaps tonight called for more fun and less easy. She could use the break from the normal, and this man looked like anything but normal.